


Hold The Levy

by ReoPlusOne



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Bladder Control, Catboys & Catgirls, Desperation, Desperation Play, F/M, M/M, Multi, Omega Verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-05-22
Packaged: 2018-03-31 18:36:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3988489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReoPlusOne/pseuds/ReoPlusOne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hybrid!AU: Alfred and Arthur are pet cats owned by different owners. The prompt would be, in this context: heat and bladder desperation.  Request fill.  Oneshot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold The Levy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [snowyfoxpaws](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowyfoxpaws/gifts).



> Warnings: omegaverse, hybrid/catboys, bladder desperation (no actual urination, just the desperation/humiliation) please do not read if you do not want to see any of these things.

“I couldn’t ask you because you were asleep, and —” **  
**

“I’m not angry,” said with _that_ smile? Instantly and totally, Alfred knew his day was doomed.  Nothing good came about when Anya smiled like that, not just in their house but in the world.  No babies born, no sun shone — so long as she held that terrifying smile.  And she did love to stare at him with it.

The prong collar came out and swung in her hand, and Alfred quickly decided to retract his previous decision — that the bag of imported Russian sweets his master had paid so much to have shipped over was not worth ‘whatever punishment she could think of’ after all.  “I told you to keep out of my food.”

“My heat is coming, and you _know_ I like sweets, and —”

“Do I need to strap you to the bed every time I take a nap?” Alfred whined in return.  Any sort of nap that began with Anya tying him down would not end as a nap.  The word ‘ _no_ ’ did come out of his mouth, but the word ‘ _no_ ’ also didn’t exist to Anya when she was mad (and she was in spite of her words, because she was dragging him by his collar).

When she let him go he slumped to the floor with his arms crossed, tail curled tightly around himself as if it might protect him — but of course he knew that a thin barrier of fur would do nothing, especially for all the times Anya had threatened to make it into a fluffy scarf for herself.

She never would; she wasn’t _that_ crazy.  But then, sometimes Al wondered…

"Get on the bed."

"Um… Can I do that in a minute?"

“And what could possibly more important than pleasing your mistress?” Bending at the waist to meet him, she tucked her hands behind her back and Alfred almost recoiled.  The alpha had a special way of making everyone else feel small, even when he was already on his knees.

“The bathroom.” He sat where he was, daring even Anya’s great strength to try and lift his weight up.  Alfred had blissfully forgotten about the prong collar until those prongs were digging into his neck, and he yowled and squirmed like an alley cat who had never known a leash.  Even as he crawled onto the bed he crossed his hands over his crotch and whined.  An appeal to sympathy was the sign of true desperation in his house since he knew Anya’s small supply of it and the fact that she took some kind of sick joy in turning down begging.  “Please — I have to go, and the, the, you know,”

“Your playdate is soon, yes.  But Arthur is a good kitty and he’ll be happy to have you anyway.” His hands were bound to either bedpost, the special metal ones she’d specifically selected knowing that a thousand Alfreds pulling together couldn’t dream of breaking them.  

He could really use the help of another nine hundred and ninety nine Alfreds, even if they would only make the posts budge a little — he was growing fuller, perhaps with the knowledge that he wasn’t just not allowed to go, but not _able_.

Alfred closed his eyes to keep from staring at the ceiling.  He had his days where he misbehaved and ate things he knew he shouldn’t have, sure — but Anya would never trade him for Arthur, no matter how much of a ‘good kitty’ he was.  Every time either of their heats came (between the two of them, every other month) they got slathered in pheromones and set on each other so their owners could watch.  Sometimes it was just a brawl; Alfred was bigger so he had an easy time pinning his fellow cat and marking up his neck.  Other times the pheromones were strong enough that they skipped the fight entirely and went on to wrestle and yowl and finally end up together in a bruised tangle.  The last time, when Arthur’s master had hosted the game, he found the other cat sporting a new tongue-ring — and he didn’t bother questioning Matthew’s taste, because that surely wasn’t it.

Apparently a friend of theirs had been over to pierce Matt’s ears and when his back was turned Arthur stole the gun and turned it on his own tongue.  Anya would have wrung his neck, but ever-patient Matthew sighed and bought him a jeweled stud for it.

Admittedly, he looked good with it.

And it would feel so perfect on him, lapping up and down his chest, and he had had the stud for a while — maybe he could be _really_ skilled with it.  Maybe he would know how to twirl it around Al’s nipple and he could suck on it when they kissed, and — when Anya doused a cotton ball with the contents of a small brown bottle and rubbed it under his nose and on his jaw, it was utterly unnecessary.  Like a freight train his heat was close at hand, and he was tied to the tracks (or, rather, the bed, which Anya had done while he was busy daydreaming) like a cheesy silent movie damsel.  She turned her back and he licked the hormones off of his lips and shuddered over the taste.

Naked and spread-eagle, he was left.  The bathroom was only a few footsteps away but even his impressive strength had to stay contained in the reinforced chain cuffs he sported.

The doorbell rang and he jumped, in the following moments he could only be grateful that he didn’t piss himself.  He had to be hopeful (one bag of candy was not worth eternal humiliation with their play-partners was it? Then, he didn’t know Crazy Anya math) that he would be granted some kind of bathroom mercy before the fight began.  Arthur probably wouldn’t take too kindly to be pissed into, and his teeth were sharp enough that Alfred heeded that thought.

What was it like for other cats? He knew you really should only want to be topped during a heat, and between the two of them the chances of that were about 50/50… Typically.  But then Matthew had made an offhanded comment about Arthur being the better top, Anya had disagreed, and now both he and Arthur had a lot at stake — if Alfred submitted, something that was apparently a big deal to the alphas and not nearly as problematic for the two feline omegas, he would face a spanking.

And he couldn’t make Anya ashamed of him.

He heard the door open and close and reluctantly turned to face the room’s new guests.  Arthur, tail up and twitching with interest, stood only barely restrained by training at the edge of the room.  Their masters seemed ready to place bets already, but through some sort of strange custom they themselves seemed bound by, they set their competitiveness aside.

"When can I start?" The other cat made a point of licking his lips and Alfred caught sight of the sunlight glinting on the metal occupying his tongue.

Looking to Anya for confirmation, Matthew nodded.  ”Go ahead.”

In a flash the other cat was on top of him.  Alfred rose to meet the challenge but found his reach limited — even his neck was still bound by the prong collar, punishing him with blunt spikes on this throat every time he thrashed.

"You look so pretty like this you know,"

"Stop that!" Alfred whined like a helpless kitten when their cocks touched and Arthur rubbed him in circles.

"Do you _really_ want me to stop?”

"At least untie me!"

Arthur jabbed his thumb in Anya’s direction, “Your master said not to.  You’re under punishment, and I am to take full advantage.”

And when Arthur continued his lazy trail lapping and savoring the inches down Alfred’s chest, the bound cat had nothing to do but bite him.

So he did.

Arthur screeched, but, while he was a little punk with a tongue piercing and eyes filled with fury he could be calculated when he needed to — as Alfred was about to learn.  He put his palm on the shaven-smooth (thanks Anya) skin just below Alfred’s belly button and _pressed_ , first just a little, and suddenly with all his weight.

It was all Alfred could do to yield to him, gasping and screwing his eyes shut.  By some miracle he hadn’t lost control yet, but it was agony to be so full — and unable to shake the terror that he might lose it in front of everyone.

“You can mount him whenever you’re ready,” Matthew interjected, and Alfred squirmed.  Where was the fight? Where was the _fairness_? He was normally at least allowed the opportunity, and then if he failed he could get the punishment he had earned by losing — wait.

This _was_ the punishment.

Anya had preemptively taken away his right to fight (not to mention his right to the restroom, but he figured the less he thought about that, the less of an issue it would become).  “He ate your sweets, is that right?” Matthew adjusted his glasses with a raised eyebrow.

“All of them,” she shrugged.  “But I can tell you now that he will never be doing that again.  Will you Fedya?”

“Not when I’m through with him,” Arthur chimed in proudly, still fighting to remove his belt.  As soon as it was undone and off the rest of his clothes became a pile on the floor — and he descended on Alfred.

Regardless of his situation the cat still had his pride; that pride wouldn’t allow him to show any kind of weakness.  He snarled as Arthur kissed him because he knew it wasn’t for either of them but for the show of their masters.  As the Briton’s fangs descended and dragged along the full hardness of his cock Alfred bit his lip to keep from moaning.  He might have lost before he had a chance for an equal fight, but that didn’t mean he still couldn’t put one up in his own way.  After all, Arthur deserved nothing if not a good thrashing.

It was when the other omega lowered his mouth to tease slowly down towards Alfred’s ass that he felt that sudden spike of heat in his belly.  Anya had perfect timing and now was no exception; he would hit his heat while Arthur was with him, and their owners, like the owners of gladiators as they settled down into their seats, would get to watch from afar.

No — Matthew was on his way over, wielding — a cocksheath.

Being two omegas neither Alfred nor Arthur could knot one another… but the additional length, width and knot would change that, if only for an afternoon.  Matthew examined Arthur’s tongue ring with his mouth as he slid his pet’s testicles through the hole and locked it on him.  “Don’t be too mean,” He warned, and Arthur eased his mind with an utterly obscene purr.

“Of course not.”

The moment his master was away, the other cat wielded his new cock like a true alpha and slid it up his belly.  The outward sensation might have been gone for him, but if Alfred knew his playmate, the sensation of dominating and humiliating him would be more than enough for him to get off.

The bastard.

The sheath was uncomfortably large inside of him — Alfred noted that it must be a new model as he felt the familiar stretch give way to unfamiliar pain and tear him.  The knot sat at the base of his ass, impossibly large, as Arthur (for the first and probably last time all day) politely waited for him to adjust.

Holding an erection with a bladder as overfull as his was not within Alfred’s skillset; he gave the go-ahead and Arthur started to thrust into him as his own cock went soft and lay on its side.  Where he might normally relish the feeling of being filled, the balloon-like bladder in his abdomen hung painfully with the threat of bursting.  Their owners might be enjoying the way his eyes screwed shut and his cheeks grew red but it was only half out of arousal; for all his pride he couldn’t lose concentration and let the dam break, even if he had to shake off his heat.

Arthur’s artificial knot came quickly, when he was ready he arched his back, slipped a finger inside Alfred alongside the sheath and pried him open to allow it inside.  Though he felt himself tear a little with the extra space inside him being taken up, with a gasp he realized he had still managed to hold it in and take all of the length; even as the hole at the end of the sheath dribbled Arthur’s cum inside him.

It was so much, too much — but he had done it.  Alfred couldn’t let himself exhale for fear of losing control, but as Arthur traced shapes and symbols onto his shoulder and scraped his skin with his tongue stud, he could at least let himself succumb to the fullness of a knot — even if it did belong to the biggest jerk in the neighborhood.

“I am impressed,” Anya murmured into his hair.  In true one-and-done omega style, Arthur sprawled to his side and let Matthew undo the sheath, which remained inside Alfred.  It was nothing without the meat of a cock to cling to, however, and much to the cat’s pleasure (the noises he made were enough to make Matthew blush) it was again filled with a dildo — the knot replenished, it hung safely inside him still.

“Please,” he breathed, and Anya waved him away with a single click to undo his restraints.

The moment he stumbled back in from the bathroom, however, Alfred was on top of Arthur, biting none too gently at his ears and straddling him for round two.  



End file.
